


Dr. Kim and The Murderous Lawyer

by necessarynight222



Category: Mad Dog (Korea TV)
Genre: Action, Assassination Attempt(s), Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Calling non-family members "hyung", Can't have the only thing thrown be hands, Choking, Crime Fighting, Episode 15: There Is No Subject, F/M, Family Feels, Fights, Fist Fights, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Choi Kang Woo, Hurt Kim Min Joon, Hurt/Comfort, I tried to throw some warm fuzzies into the fighting too, If I'm honest this is mostly fight scene with a little fluff at the end, Kim Min Joon Whump, Knives, Minor Jang Ha Ri/Kim Min Joon, Murder lawyer, Protectiveness, Spoilers for Episode 15 of Mad Dog (Korea TV), Stabbing, Strangling, Tag for Episode 15: There Is No Subject, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Whump, disorientation, knife fight, protective dongsaeng, protective hyung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necessarynight222/pseuds/necessarynight222
Summary: In Episode 15 of Mad Dog (K-drama), Lee Yeong-ho waits in Kim Min-joon's apartment to assassinate him. Luckily, Choi Kang-woo swoops in to save the day.But what if Choi Kang-woo was a minute late? What would happen to Kim Min-joon? This story explores that possibility. Read for a super detailed knife fight, some found-family feels, and a splash of Kim Min Joon/Jang Ha Ri.OR: Kim Min-joon first calls Choi Kang-woo "hyung" a bit more dramatically than in canon.
Relationships: Choi Kang Woo & Kim Min Joon, Jang Ha Ri/Kim Min Joon (Mad Dog), Kim Min Joon (Mad Dog)/Everyone
Comments: 9
Kudos: 53





	Dr. Kim and The Murderous Lawyer

[From the last two minutes of Episode 15] 

Choi Kang-woo, Jang Ha-ri, Kim Min-joon, and Pentium stood around the Mad Dog office, talking about the upcoming press conference that would finally expose the truth of the plane crash. Their plans were set, almost every piece in place, and the certainty gave them the comfort to joke around a little. Nurse Oh had been released from prison and an ecstatic Cheetah had gone to pick her up, which added to their easy mood. And an easy mood resulted in a lot of teasing, as Min-joon had found out long ago.

“Why get tense about the press conference? Even Mr. Cheetah would do that.” Pentium teased.

“Cheetah?” Min-joon dodged the question. “Why is it so cold in here? Didn’t you turn the heater on? I’ll go change my clothes.” As he turned to leave, he noticed Kang-woo’s gaze dart around the room the way it always did when he was nervous. An odd tightness seized Min-joon, and he thought of Lee Yeong-ho’s murderous grudge against him. But that was a thing of the past, wasn’t it?

Kim Min-joon brushed the worry from his mind as he climbed the stairs. Choi Kang-woo had always been paranoid—this was nothing new. He unlocked his door through the electronic keypad and strode into the darkness of his room, closing the door behind him. There was no reason to turn on the light—the dim sunlight through the window was enough to change his clothes. The shadows of his furniture looked stretched and strange in the half-light. He shrugged off his coat, draping it carefully over the back of his couch. Behind him, one of the shadows moved. Quick footsteps. Min-joon startled and half-turned. A thick silk scarf wrapped itself around his neck and snapped tight.

Adrenaline flooded Min-joon too late, and his world tilted as Lee Yeong-ho dragged him off his feet. He clawed madly at his throat, nails digging into the fabric but unable to move it. The heels of Min-joon’s shoes scuffed uselessly against the dark floor of the apartment. He drove his right elbow into Yeong-ho’s stomach. No response. The only sounds were his strangled gasps. Yeong-ho’s grip was strong and unwavering, slowly dragging Min-joon backwards to keep him off-balance. The scarf tightened gradually, almost gently, and the world started slipping…

Min-joon’s phone rang. He heard the shrill note mutedly, as if the phone was buried in dirt rather than in his pocket. There was no difference either way—he couldn’t answer it. The scarf tightened. Min-joon’s knees buckled, and his arms went slack. All of his weight hung from the scarf. His eyes slipped closed.

A thundering from the steps forced his eyes open again. Choi Kang-woo was standing in his doorway, cellphone pressed against his ear. Min-joon almost sobbed in relief, trying hard to focus on the rapidly dimming picture of his saviour in the front door.

“Let him go,” Kang-woo growled. He said more, but Min-joon’s eyes were slipping shut again, and Kang-woo’s words were lost amidst the rush of blood in his ears.

The scarf went slack and Min-joon dropped to the floor, coughing weakly. Lee Yeong-ho kicked him in the ribs and he curled in on himself, wheezing, world spinning in and out of focus. He could still feel the fabric wrapped loosely around his neck, and began struggling to pull it off.

The floor shook as Kang-woo charged, tackling Yeong-ho. Min-joon heard them crash into the bookshelf behind him. A fist hit flesh, and Yeong-ho grunted in pain. Some of Min-joon’s books fell, and he rolled onto his side to see the two men shoving each other against the bookshelf violently. Kang-woo got another solid punch in on Yeong-ho and both went tumbling to the floor. Yeong-ho reached out and grabbed his knife from where it had fallen under the desk. He slashed at Kang-woo, who had to throw his weight backwards to avoid the blade.

Min-joon struggled to his knees, breathing raggedly. He shook his head to clear it, just as Yeong-ho lunged with the knife to slice Kang-woo across the bicep. Kang-woo grabbed for the knife, but the blade slashed across his palm and kept going, ripping a gash from Kang-woo’s wrist to halfway up his forearm. Yeong-ho punched Kang-woo, and used the momentum to pin him the ground.

Still gasping for air, Min-joon pulled himself to his feet, both hands on his desk for support. Most of his decorations were scattered across the floor, but his pen-holder was within reach. It was a German-made metal cup, more expensive than it looked, and decently heavy.

Yeong-ho was using his body weight to keep Kang-woo’s arms trapped. He raised the knife. “You’ll die,” he sneered, “you and your flock of street dogs. I’ll kill you all!” The knife was far above his head now, and he moved to bring it down with all his strength—

Min-joon cracked him across the skull with the pen holder from the desk. A cascade of pens joined the other fallen items on the floor. Yeong-ho howled, clutching his head as he tumbled off of Kang-woo. Kang-woo rolled over, clutching his arm, and Min-joon rushed to his side.

“Choi Kang-woo-ssi… you ok?” Min-joon said. His voice rasped and he coughed, looking around wildly. He found the silk scarf that had almost strangled him and began wrapping it around the long gash in Kang-woo’s forearm.

Kang-woo used his other hand to grasp Min-joon’s wrist. “Kim Min-joon-ssi,” he panted, “run, get out!“

A deep, wounded growl came from Lee Yeong-ho. Min-joon turned to see Yeong-ho crouched, wiping his forehead of the steady stream of blood that pulsed from his temple. His eyes held the cold, gleeful tint of a murderer.

“I won’t leave you,” Min-joon said. He pushed Kang-woo behind him protectively and braced himself.

Yeong-ho sprang at them. Min-joon blocked the hit and punched Yeong-ho across the face, aiming for the bleeding temple. Yeong-ho staggered and Min-joon tackled him. The two landed on the carpet in front of the couch, Min-joon on top, holding Yeong-ho down with one hand and punching with other. He only got two hits in before Yeong-ho grabbed his wrist and yanked him down, twisting them both until Min-joon was trapped against the coffee table. Yeong-ho punched him in the stomach. Min-joon cried out, and Yeong-ho used the moment to break away from their struggle and stand. But he kept his grip on Min-joon’s wrist and used it to twist his arm behind his back. Yeong-ho yanked the arm upwards and Min-joon felt his shoulder burn as he was forced to his knees, wrist pressed between his shoulder-blades. The knife reappeared at the base of his bruised neck. Using one hand to apply continuous pressure to Min-joon’s twisted arm, the other hand holding the knife, Yeong-ho had complete control.

“Min-joon!” Kang-woo yelled. He used the desk to push himself upright, the scarf still half-wrapped around his forearm.

A fiery pain spread from Min-joon’s shoulder, accentuating every other ache this fight had ignited throughout his body. He tried pulling away from Yeong-ho’s grip, but the knife pressed into his collarbone. A couple drops of blood trickled onto his shirt collar. He stopped struggling, breathing shallowly. The blade was too close to take a full breath.

“If either of you move, I’ll carve out Kim Min-joon’s adam’s apple and put it in his damn pen holder,” Yeong-ho snarled.

“Try it and I will kill you. I promise you, I will kill you.” Kang-woo continued to wrap his forearm with the scarf, eyes darting between the faces of Min-joon and Yeong-ho.

Yeong-ho glanced behind himself, towards the door. “You’re going to let me take him now. Maybe you’ll find him alive after Joo Hyun-gi is done with him.”

“Joo Hyun-gi?” Kang-woo tilted his head, “Not Chairman Cha Joon-kyu?”

“Yes. Joo Hyun-gi ordered this.”

“You’re lying,” Kang-woo said.

Yeong-ho ignored him, and began pulling Min-joon backwards. Min-joon’s knees slid across the carpet. Drops of something warm and wet landed in his hair. His lungs were burning, and he tried to gasp without impaling himself on the knife. A desperate plan formed through the dizziness in his head.

“We’ll tell,” Min-joon rasped.

Yeong-ho stopped pulling.

“We’ll tell everyone—“ Min-joon coughed “—that Chairman Cha ordered my death.”

Kang-woo nodded, catching on. “We’ll show your school records, your scholarship, your work records with Taeyang. Nobody will believe Joo Hyun-gi did this, especially when he denies it himself.”

Yeong-ho wavered, and Kang-woo stepped forward, fists clenched. He had tucked the edge of the scarf down to keep it from slipping, and the bleeding had slowed somewhat. Min-joon was incredibly grateful for that. 

His relief was short-lived. Yeong-ho began twisting the wrist that he had trapped behind Min-joon’s back, wrenching it upwards with enough force to lift Min-joon’s knees off the carpet. Min-joon clenched his teeth, trying not to yell and deepen the concern on Kang-woo’s face.

“Whether they believe me or not,” Yeong-ho said, “I have my own grudges to settle with Mad Dog, and this little minnow in particular.”

Min-joon would have been very insulted by the nickname “minnow,” but Yeong-ho suddenly shifted his grip and bent Min-joon’s wrist back as far as it could go. He continued to twist and pull on the arm until a wrenching pain shot across Min-joon’s torso from his shoulder-blade. He screamed, hoarse and desperate, using the last drops of air in his lungs. Spine arching to compensate and head tilted back, Min-joon found himself looking up at Yeong-ho’s face, leering down at him.

From the lawyer’s hairline to his chin, half of his face was coated in blood. Smears of it painted his neck and shirt, and Yeong-ho kept blinking it out of his eyes in thick, gory tears. A couple drops rolled off his jawline and landed on Min-joon’s cheek, which was nearly enough to make him scream again. Yeong-ho grinned, and his teeth were outlined in red. He dragged Min-joon towards the door of the apartment, and the realization struck Min-joon that if Yeong-ho succeeded in kidnapping him, those red teeth would be the last thing he saw. He pulled desperately, but Yeong-ho had always been much stronger than him. If they were alone together, Min-joon didn’t stand a chance. Even now, there was only one reason Min-joon wasn’t dead yet.

“K-Kang-woo-ssi!” Min-joon cried out. “Kang-woo... Kang…” another jolt of pain shook him to his core, and his head suddenly felt heavy and dull again. Darkness crowded the edges of his vision, blood rushing in his ears. The door of the apartment was right behind them now. In seconds, Yeong-ho would make his escape, and Min-joon would face the full wrath of his grudge.

Painted with terror, Min-joon made his last desperate plea. “Hyung! Hyung, _bitte!_ ”

Yeong-ho turned backwards, using the hand with the knife to twist the doorknob—

And Kang-woo tackled him through the doorway. Yeong-ho screamed in pain as they fell, landing in the hallway as Min-joon crumpled, sprawling limply on the threshold. He choked on air, joints screaming, trying to move everything but his left shoulder. Dimly, he heard Yeong-ho’s yell rise in a crescendo, only broken by the heavy thud of a strong punch.

“Die! Die!” Kang-woo shouted over the cacophony. The hits kept falling, and the scream fell silent, but Kang-woo continued his beating.

Through a thick haze of pain, a different fear struck Min-joon. If his new hyung became a murderer, Min-joon would lose him just as quickly as he had lost the first. He tried to turn his head in their direction, but the movement pulled on every other muscle and his body erupted in waves. He groaned loudly and painfully.

The thuds stopped, and Kang-woo was at his side in an instant. “Min-joon-ah, look at me. Look at me. Min-joon-ah.”

Kang-woo pulled Min-joon’s head into his lap, and ended up cradling the smaller man’s whole upper body. Gratefully, Min-joon sank into the warmth and support. The darkness that had been threatening him this whole time became comforting and inviting. His eyes slipped closed…

“Min-joon-ah! Stay with me. Stay awake!” Kang-woo ordered, shaking Min-joon carefully. Min-joon tried to force his eyes open, but the burning pain and the vacuum in his lungs finally won. His head dropped to his chest and he passed out.

* * *

The darkness cocooning Min-joon was broken up in fits and starts. He had sensations of moving, heard people yelling, an engine revving, saw glimpses of light, then black ceilings. Eventually, all the sensations settled into a peaceful warmth.

He woke up to the feeling of sunlight on his face. A familiar smell tickled his nose—Jang Ha-ri’s perfume—and he tried to raise his hand to block the sunlight. The muscles in his shoulder pulled painfully and he stopped, a low groan passing his lips. But the pain was dull, a wave that gently lapped at his sandy consciousness instead of the typhoons it could have been. Min-joon opened his eyes. He was back in Kang-woo’s bed which was nice, but the most beautiful sight was Jang Ha-ri, fast asleep in a chair at his bedside. The morning light glowed off of her deep black hair, zipper askew on her leather jacket, her facial features gorgeous, delicate, and soft in sleep. Min-joon let himself stare at her for a moment. Her chin was perched on her hand at an angle that would definitely give her a neck cramp when she woke up, and the chair itself looked hard and uncomfortable. The thought tugged at something deeper than Min-joon’s aching muscles. He slowly reached up with his less-injured arm and pulled his pillow out from under his head.

With more effort than he would like to admit, he chucked the pillow straight at Ha-ri’s head. It thudded into her face and fell into her lap.

Ha-ri woke with a start, fluffing her hair everywhere. “Yah, Kim Min-joon!”

Min-joon laughed, though it quickly eroded into a cough. Ha-ri left the pillow on her chair and rushed to his side. A glass of water had been left on the bedside table, and she gently tilted his head up to help him take a couple sips.

“Thanks,” he rasped. “Use it.”

She stared at him, bewildered and concerned. “What?”

“Use the pillow… if you’re gonna sleep in the chair.” He looked at her, deeply tender and joking at the same time.

Ha-ri stuttered, blushing. “Uh, team leader!” she called, “Pentium-ssi, Cheetah-ssi!”

“They’re here?” Min-joon said.

“Pentium is on the couch, Cheetah chose a floor mat.”

The bedroom door swung open, and Kang-woo, Pentium, and Cheetah all tumbled into the room.

“Hyung!” Pentium exclaimed, and they crowded around his bed like puppies. 

Min-joon smiled, “Hey…”

“It’s so good to see you awake,” Cheetah said. He grabbed the pillow from the chair and placed it back under Min-joon’s head, making sure to pat it into the perfect shape.

“You gave us a good scare,” Kang-woo said.

“Hyung—“ Min-joon coughed.

Tension rippled through the atmosphere and the team stiffened in concern. Ha-ri helped him take another sip of water, and Kang-woo placed his right hand on Min-joon’s forehead, brushing the hair away from his eyes. Min-joon stared at the other arm, wrapped in bandages.

Min-joon tried again. “Hyung, your hand?”

“It’s fine, Min-joon-ah. It only needed a couple bandages, and Nurse Oh wrapped it herself. I’m more concerned about your condition. Are you feeling ok? Yeong-ho dislocated your shoulder this time, and nearly strangled you again. Cheetah helped Nurse Oh put your shoulder back into place, but the bruises will stick around for days to come. Be careful with it. Lee Yeong-ho is in custody, facing attempted murder and assault. Chairman Cha is still in prison, and our plan is still operational. But if you want to recover in time for the press conference, you’ll need to stay out of the preparation.” Kang-woo said.

“What?” Min-joon rasped. “No, I can… I’m fine!”

As one, the Mad Dog team stared him down.

“Kim Min-joon, you should be grateful we’re letting you do the press conference at all!” Ha-ri said.

Cheetah nodded. “We debated it fiercely. Kang-woo still wants to lock you in a glass bubble for the rest of your life, but even he couldn’t deny that your presence at the press conference is crucial.”

Pentium piped up: “also Player Jang sunbae said you’re the most handsome so people will like you best.”

“Aish!” Ha-ri smacked Pentium on the back of the head, “I didn’t say that!”

“You’re saying it right now… with your eyes,” Min-joon said.

Ha-ri scoffed and blushed, playing with the hair around her face. Cheetah and Min-joon shared a discrete fist bump.

When the chuckles died down, Kang-woo spoke. “Min-joon-ah, please. Stay safe. Stay with us. You’re part of the Mad Dog team for life now, and we’re going to make sure that lasts for a long time.”

Min-joon nodded, smiling as he relaxed into the pillow and warmth of Kang-woo’s bed. Hearing the confirmation that Mad Dog wanted him around forever dulled the pain far more than any drug. He trusted them fully, with everything from preparing for the press conference to saving his life. He hadn’t felt a connection like this anywhere but here. So he allowed himself to bask in their atmosphere, submit to their plans for his recovery, and let justice come in due time.

**Author's Note:**

> *"bitte" is German for "please" 
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me through this fic! This is the first work I've posted on AO3 and I'm grateful for any reader I get. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> I'm thinking of writing the scene from Kang-woo's perspective as well. Would you like to read that? 
> 
> Is there anything else you'd like to read from me? Please let me know in the comments. 
> 
> I spent all of Mad Dog dreaming of when Kim Min-joon would call Choi Kang-woo "hyung." When I watched Lee Yeong-ho wait to kill Kim Min-joon, I imagined this whole story in my head and really wanted a dramatic scene for that first "hyung." It didn't happen (obviously) but I found I was satisfied anyway, because the ending was so peaceful, happy, satisfying, and significant. But as a fanfiction writer, I guess I just couldn't let it be peaceful. Gotta add in that dash of whump, y'know? Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


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